


A Very Curious Ring

by alba17



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Crossover, Drama, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-04
Updated: 2014-01-04
Packaged: 2018-01-07 10:39:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1118916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alba17/pseuds/alba17
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Sherlock/Hobbit fusion. </p><p> </p><p>  <i>“John, what do you have there?” Sherlock snapped his fingers in a way that said, ‘hand it over.’</i></p><p> </p><p>  <i>John snatched his hand out of his pocket where he’d been fondling the gold ring he’d found several days ago, the one that he couldn’t let go of. “Nothing.” He frowned as Sherlock continued to hold his hand out. “Nothing at all.”</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	A Very Curious Ring

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dante_s_hell](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dante_s_hell/gifts).



> Happy Holidays to dante_s_hell! I just saw The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug and this idea popped into my head. Sorry it isn't a completed story, but rather the beginning of something. Oh well. Maybe I'll continue this, you never know. I'm kind of intrigued by the idea now.
> 
> And FYI, I haven't yet seen Sherlock 3.01, The Empty Hearse, so this has no spoilers and doesn't reflect any new developments, except for using the name 'Mary.'

“John, what do you have there?” Sherlock snapped his fingers in a way that said, ‘hand it over.’

John snatched his hand out of his pocket where he’d been fondling the gold ring he’d found several days ago, the one that he couldn’t let go of. “Nothing.” He frowned as Sherlock continued to hold his hand out. “Nothing at all.”

“Oh please. You’ve had your hand in that pocket for the last few days. You’ve got _something_ in there, something that you want to keep a secret.”

They locked gazes. Sherlock’s expression took on a calculating aspect.

“From the angle of your hand as you hold it in your pocket,” he said, “and the amount of movement of your fingertips - I’d say about two centimetres - the object is round...smooth.” He grabbed John’s hand and sniffed the tips of his fingers, ignoring John’s affronted look. “Ah. Gold. Gives off a typical aroma when human skin comes in contact with it, I won’t bother you with the details of the chemical reactions.”

John stared at him. Damn the man with his absurd intellect.

“It’s a gold ring, isn’t it? The question is why are you keeping it in your pocket like that? If it were a gift or of some sentimental importance, you’d either be wearing it or keeping it safe. Therefore it must be something you have no attachment to.” He formed a steeple with his fingers and tapped his nose with them. “However, you cannot let it go. You’re keeping it in your pocket and constantly touching it. There must be something very special about it, something unique.”

John twitched under Sherlock’s scrutiny. His shoulders abruptly fell. “All right, all right.” He took the ring out of his pocket and held it up to look at it. “It’s this ring I found a few days ago. I was browsing in an antiques shop, dusty old place, could barely see anything. Strangest man ran it, he was all huge yellow eyes with a bald head, muttering about his ‘precious.’ Anyway, I found a lovely little box I wanted to give Mary. I could barely get the fellow’s attention to buy it. When I got it home, turned out there was this ring in it.” 

The light caught the ring and it seemed to glow from within, highlighting the inscription. Sherlock lifted his hand to take it from John, but John didn’t want to let go. The thing had a strange pull. When Sherlock managed to tug it out of his hand, he felt a sharp sense of loss. 

“John,” Sherlock said in a low voice. “What’s going on?” He examined the ring, paying close attention to the words etched on the inside in a language John didn’t recognise. “What is this?”

John sighed. “I don’t know. All I know is I couldn’t let go of it.” He reined in the impulse to grab the ring away from John and stuff it back in his pocket so he could have it all to himself.

“Hmmm. Very curious. Does it fit you?”

“Yes.” John would never forget the moment he put the ring on his finger. It had twisted reality in a sickening fashion, sent an odd surge through his body that was so shocking he’d pulled the ring off immediately and had been afraid to put it on ever since. When Sherlock started to put the ring on his own finger, John yelled, “Don’t.” At Sherlock’s surprised expression, he said, “Sorry. It’s just...there’s something very weird about it. When you put it on, it does something to you. Just don’t.” 

Sherlock cocked an eyebrow as he held the ring near the tip of his finger. John sighed. He supposed to say ‘don’t’ was actually an invitation to Sherlock, the perverse bastard. Sherlock slid the ring onto his finger with ease. John held his breath. Sherlock closed his eyes as he pushed the ring into place at the base of his finger. He trembled and gripped the arms of the chair, then went still.

He opened his eyes and John gasped. They glowed orange like a panther on the prowl at night. John jumped out of his chair, then stood pinned in place as the air around Sherlock began to shimmer with faint rays of energy.

“Sherlock. What’s happening? Take it off. Take it off right now.” He hurried over to Sherlock and grabbed his hand to get the ring off. 

Sherlock sprang into motion, pulling the ring off his finger and throwing it across the room with a grunt. 

“Are you all right? What was that?” John said, crouching down next to Sherlock. 

Sherlock panted and stared intently at the spot where he’d thrown the ring. “I don’t know. But I’m going to find out.” He sprang out of his chair. “Don’t touch it. We must take great care.” He grabbed his coat and threw it on with gusto. “We will deal with it when we get back. Right now, the game’s afoot, John, and there’s no time to waste.” He flew out the door and John scrambled after him, throwing a glance back at the cursed ring lying in the shadows under a side table.


End file.
